Fancy Dress
by ChloeNicolee1912
Summary: Written after I saw a prompt on Tumblr. A little Jealousy fic about The Doctor and Clara at a fancy dress party, with her getting a lot of male attention because shes wearing a skimpy outfit, but it's okay, because we all know which guy she'd end up making out with in the back room! Rated T to be safe!


"Are you sure it's a good idea you bringing me?" The Doctor asked, fidgeting a little uncomfortably.

"Of course!" Was the reply from within the TARDIS wardrobe, where Clara was getting changed.

He'd initially been overjoyed that she'd asked him to be her plus one to an old college friends fancy dress party, and had immediately set about making the best costume he could, so he'd not let her down with a half hearted attempt, and was beyond proud of his apparent three heads and long toga, but he was now a little nervous he'd gone too far. What if someone actually thought he was from Graecia 6? If the Persites of Assia were there, thing could get a bit awkward (on account of the tiny little, 400 year war that had been raging up until recently. Though peace had officially been declared, both sides were still very wary of the other.) He looked at his reflection in the mirror once more, before turning to look at Clara, who had just entered the console room.

And boy was he glad he did.

She sauntered in, hair in high pigtails, a tiny little cheerleaders outfit hugging her slight frame, Pom-Poms waving.

"How do I look?" She giggled, giving him a twirl, causing the skirt to show even more of her legs (which was no mean feat, considering it barely grazed her arse as it was!) He could feel his face started to resemble a tomato, and he just about managed to splutter out a "Great! Peppy!" before he had to turn away to cover the blush. She, luckily hadn't noticed, being too busy trying to cover up a giggle at how own appearance. Poking one of his fake heads, she asked "So what are you meant to be again?"

He gave an exasperated sigh. "I am clearly one of the Cerbroso of Graecia 6, a noble race if three headed humanoids who- HEY DON'T POKE THEM IN THE EYES!" He chastised, gently play-slapping her hand away from the papier mâché versions of him. She giggled, examine one of them closely. "Y'know I think I prefer this one!" She grinned, taking his hand and leading him towards the door. "The chin is smaller!"

The only reply she got was an indignant splutter.

Two hours later

The Doctor sat dejectedly in a back room of Clara's friends house, plastic cup in hand, and sighed. His costume was ruined (one drunken idiot had bashed into him, knocking one head clean off, and crushing the other) not that it mattered. Everyone thought he was a video game character that they'd never heard of, and written him off as a geek. But that wasn't why he was back here. He could handle being thought strange, he quite enjoyed being an oddity actually. But what he didn't like was the male attention Clara was getting, because of her stupidly small, skimpy, sexy outfit. As soon as she'd entered, some guy had cornered her at the drinks table, trying to cop a feel. And Clara, his feisty, little Clara had let him. All night she'd been dancing with various other men, who all wasted no time getting their hands everywhere, and when he had pulled her aside to warn her, she just smiled, said it was "just a laugh" and told him to loosen up and stop being over protective.

He knew she couldn't possibly know the real reason for his caution. Yes he was over protective, that was true, but he genuinely hated the image of their hands all over his Clara because it should be his hands, not theirs! They were rough, drunken hands, that only wanted Clara as a prize. He adored Clara, wanted to keep her close and remind her every day how utterly fantastic she was. But it would seem she didn't want that. She didn't know that's how he felt of course, but still...

The door to the little room opened, and lo and behold, Miss Oswald herself entered, calling out for him. He sink deeper into the shadows, trying to ignore how gorgeous she looked, face slightly flushed from the alcohol, tiny outfit hugging every curve in all the right places, and her voice calling out his name. She was looking for him. But he didn't want her to find him, he didn't want her to see the flickers of jealousy in his eyes. She'd think him ridiculous.

Unfortunately for him, he hasn't suck into the shadows quite enough, and she soon spotted him, and skipped over.

"Oi, Chin Boy!" She giggled, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. "I haven't had a dance with my plus one all night, why are you moping in-" she stopped, and looked at him, kneeling down so she could look in his eyes. "Hey what's up?" She asked, concerned now, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them gently. "If its what Nina said about your costume being better crushed, ignore her she's a cow when she's had a few!"

He turned his face away. "I'm fine, just had a bit of a headache is all!" He lied. "Go on and enjoy the party, I'll be out in a bit."

At that moment a loud "Oi, you seen Oswald anywhere?" Was heard from outside the door, form a deep male voice, slightly slurred and not altogether appealing. Clara noticed the Doctor tense up, and suddenly realised.

Laughing a little she reached up a hand to cup his cheek, turning his face towards her. "Doctor you idiot." She giggled, and before he could question her, her lips were crashing down on his. It took his a few moments to realise what was happening, and in that time she managed to climb onto his lap, tangle her hands in his hair and pull herself as close as she could.

The kiss managed to release all the Doctors pent up frusration, passion and desire and in that moment he lost himself entirely in the sensation of her lips against his. He wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her as close as possible, the other settling on the flesh of her exposed thigh, before moving up, under her skirt to settle on her hip. She pressed her chest to his, her tongue begging entrance which he gladly offered. The kiss was fiery, needy, passionate, and he felt like he was burning all over, and it was all Clara's fault. He loved it.

She shifted to straddle his lap, anything to get closer to him, to show him that she didn't give a toss about those others out there, shed be glad to stay in this back room with him forever, because that's all she needed to be happy. Him. When she was forced to break the kiss, for want of oxygen, she pressed her forehead to he, chest heaving against his, all three heartbeats racing. He pressed hot little kisses and gently nips down her jawline, moving down to kiss her neck, causing a small breathy moan to escape the impossible girls lips. And what a gorgeous sound that was. He wanted to make her moan like that again and again, for her to have his name, no one else's, on her lips when she felt the need to moan in pleasure. She allowed him to gently suck on her collarbone before she brought his lips back up to hers, desperately needing to feel them again. Her hands gripped at the fabric of his toga, his gently cupping her backside, and they kissed and caressed until they'd both totally lost track of time. But it didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was that they were together. That no-one else could come between them. He was her Chin Boy and she was his Impossible girl and no amount of rowdy men at the party outside would change that.


End file.
